


The Life as a part-time God

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work, The Life as a Part-time God
Genre: Angels, Freeform, Fucky storyline, Gen, Gods, Mindfuck, Multiple Pov, Switched POV, can i get a fucking uhhhh what am i doing, demons/daemons, i hate this, insert more tags later on, mythology creatures, otherworldly creatures, placed under mature just in case, updates are gonna be all over the place so whoops, wowie a story where i put effort in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sure, this may be like every other story with a protagonist figuring out their newfound abilities of the supernatural, but is it?Local demigod of the in-between, Mikaela Andersson, configures her identity and purpose of serving either for the forces of light or for the forces of darkness....Shenanigans then ensue.





	1. When you thought it was going to be a normal day

Normal days are mediocre, aren't they?

 

First you start off waking up with terrible bedhead, then find yourself being rushed by your mentor for training to be what seems to be yourself going against a monster of that to a skyscraper building, and having no energy whatsoever to go against said beast. It isn't like this _everyday_ , but when it is, I'd rather sleep in until the second sun rises for the afternoon calling.

 

And speak of the damned, that sun _has_ risen.

 

“Mikaela,” the mentor spoke deliberately with stern amber eyes, “this is training for you, no more and none less. As heir to being the deity of the in-between, I'd expect much from you as being your apprentice.”

 

“Could you lower that, then?”, I replied, eyebrows raised.

 

“Unlikely,” Selph stated as final.

 

Four cremated obsidian pillars submerged from the ground, cyan-turquoise crystal levitating at an even level in the center of the the pillars’ stands. The sun’s rays illuminated all the crystals, a beam aligning them in a diamond shape around the training dome and thus, a wild opponent is spawned!

 

Eyes as silver as the moon, talons sharpened as the broadsword I wielded within my own shaky palms, wings that were feathered enough for a hunter to be attracted by it, and yet here I am—confronted by the beast. It slowly leered at me, growling defensively, wings arched and talons sharpened to cause scratches. .”That is a Fahrie,” stated the mentor from the stone bleachers above, “they do scratch, _a lot._  Be wary to not gaze upon their eyes, for your discreet fears  and secrets are unveiled.”

 

The fahrie beast lunged at me, attempting to land a scratch at my gear. Guard, guard, guard-!! How strong were these talons exactly!? Or was it the force within this beast? I leaped back a few meters away, planning a counterattack- or _counterspell_ , to his pleasure. I snuck a sly glance back at Selph and gave a wink—an arched eyebrow followed with sternly narrowed eyes followed. _He knew and he probably assumed I was gonna fuck up_.

 

The griffin-like creature glared at my stature, hissing and growling, charging at me once more. A conduit of such _dark_ energy flowed through me and outward from the sword. The sword’s blade almost gave out a crack from what I heard, a _-shriiing-_ sound echoing throughout the dome field, deafening the fahrie and I. A wispy, black, twirly trail emerged from the sword and onto the granite ground, surrounding the creature in a circle. The creature cowers in fear as being limited to space by the shadowy lining of the circle; soon then came in symbols that appeared clockwise around the said circle, none of which I've seen in my previous years of being mortal.

 

An amethyst violet tinted bubble enclosed the winged creature within it and soon imploded.

 

What was a remnant trace of the beast was a crimson-gold feather that floated gracefully onto the ground as the bubble and circle dissipated into nothingness. The flow of negativity seemingly vanished as it arrived- what _was_ that mere apathy? A slow but rather amused clap was heard from behind on the bleacher balcony, he and another person in interest being there.

 

Selph was stunned by the counterspell—it was the stranger who gave the astonishing applause.

 

She had azure eyes that were sharp and intimidating as of that to the creature and a smirk widening ever so. She stopped inches far away from my tired figure and bowed as a form of gratitude from the performance. “To see a fahrie... _perish_ and be obliterated by a mere mortal like you,” they started, gazing up with arched eyebrows in peaked interest. They'd cued their emphasis on the word _perish_ , “it’s baffling upon my eyes to witness such sights. Who _are_ you, even?”

 

“Mikaela,” I replied, “Mikaela Andersson.”

 

The anonymous introduced themselves as, “Riez Deriyk. ‘Tis quite the pleasure in meeting you; I've heard lots from your _mentor_ over there.”

 

Why was he still in shock? And from what? The night daemon blinked, reality bringing him back in. Riez only exchanged in what seems to be a wave when Selph flashed a glare at the surprise guest. “Deriyk, what do you intend from here? You're the meddlesome angel and I despise both nosy fiends and angels.”

 

“Selph, lighten up a bit! I just wanted to see how you were doing! You never do the same, it seems,” replied the head angel.

 

 _Seems like I'm going to be a third wheel...to my dismay_ , the demigod thought, sneaking off from the quarreling opposites. There was a landing not so far low from the floating dome in the sky, at least she could make there in time before either of them noticed her disarrayed presence. Mikaela hops off the ledge of the podium with the follow up of an _-eep!-_ shrill from her that was soon noticed by the two.

 

“Madame Mikaela?”

 

“Young one?”

 

They glimpse over the ledge of the dome, seeing the child in a sprawled out position on the ground. Mikaela wearily lifted a thumbs up to the two, indicating that she was alright. Well, at least _partially_ so. “Get the nurse maiden,” demanded the mentor. 

\---

“So you mean to tell me she jumped off the ledge of the dome?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you weren't looking?”

 

“Reluctantly, no.”

 

“Due to yourself proving an useless point against your former enemy?”

 

“...Yes.”

The nurse narrowed her eyes in frustration at the mentor, “You are one petty daemon.” Her fingers grasped on the feather pen, dribbling onto the strip of parchment and filling out every field that was necessary for the unconscious patient—of which of who was the demigod that fell of the ledge. The nurse slid the paper to Selph with knitted eyebrows and left the room with an upturned nose, “Keep an eye or three on that woman. You _know_ how she is.”

 

The click from the closed door left the room in deafening silence.

 

“A few sprains aren't bad for now, I guess,” he would mutter under his breath as lounging into a nearby chair that was placed by the bed, where the woman slept soundly. _Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale_ . She was fine at the time and nothing had done her in. Or _nobody,_ must he specify it.

 

An obsidian appendage snaked around the young woman’s arm, coiling itself from the tip of her index finger—all the way to the forearm, leaving an inky black trail on her caramel skin. It would leave a sting as noticing the small, pained whimper coming from the bed stand that caught the daemon’s attention, receiving an arched eyebrow at the wincing expression that beheld upon her face. “Mikaela?”

 

Obviously no response.

 

The appendage seeped into her skin as if it were lotion, leaving an entrail of a permanent ink black marking on the arm. A sharp inhale was heard from Mikaela, and exhilarated exhales that were quick and unsteady. _Exhale, inhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale…exhale._ The searing pain of fire dancing upon her skin, sulfuric acid being poured into the exposed flesh and slowly, but agonizingly so, the remaining skin being tugging off from bone was so sudden. So heart-wrenchingly _painful._  It made her nauseous from the thought of reminiscing the pain that lasted a fresh second or two.

 

Mikaela doubles over on her bed, reaching over to the trash can that was placed nearby her bed and vomited into the container. Do I _really_ need to describe whatever content came out of her mouth? The mentor rushed over, sitting beside her and rubbing her back as sign of comfort. “I'm never eating tofu and bread again,” she deems as ducking into the pail.

 

The illusionary pain was ephemeral, but it kept its long-lasting impression for the demigod herself.

 

\---

 

“It’s jarring for her to experience _this_ n ow, do you not think?”

 

“The time is now and Time is one impatient father. Act now and he himself won't do any harm upon the girl.”

 

“But alas- sister- she's not even capable of handling the tasks of awakening the darkness that _you_ have!”

 

“She was the one that chose that decision to cast that bubble on the fahrie not long ago. Blame her, not I.”

 

“But _still_ …”

 

The dimmed room was casted light upon as a small wisp floated dainty between the conversing two, the wisp itself bringing light to the two figures. One had olive golden bright skin that was complementary to the golds and mist white that adorned her robe and eyelids closed, despite all of her flowing cream bangs getting in the way of her sight. Her eyebrows furrowed in dismay to the other, who was a complete opposite of the color scheme she wore— skin pale yet brimmed with red at her cheeks, and icy blue slits of eyes staring at her counterpart. She was the one to reply to the albino with narrowed eyes, “'But’ nothing. We are her and she is us, no?”

 

The other replied begrudgingly, lowering her head, “If you say so, Luna.”

 

“Aletheia, at least you took a stance at having an odd opinion than I,” she'd complemented before shooing the wisp away.

  
The wisp was nothing important as of now


	2. A night's worth at the office

Everything ached.

 

From head to throat and from chest to back, all of her body winced in pain. Where was this ache of pain coming from and how did it form into something like this- something so severe it made her fumble into the ground. Her eyes were dimmed of light—or was it the area she was in lacking of light? No wonder- she crawled on her knees, reaching towards whatever destination she needed to be before anything out of the unknown came out.

 

“ _Pitiful soul, you won't live for long_.”

 

She defies that statement day by day— year by year. That sentence and whoever says it in such a mimicking tone can truly fuck themselves with a cactus laced in cyanide. A translucent yet luminous golden wisp danced its way towards an object that gleamed with the light that illuminated it. A bright, golden longsword with a ruby eye embedded into the cusp of the handle, of which was adorned in such pure light and energy that even the enigmatic and arcane forces wouldn't dare near it.

 

Yet here the child was, defying such a boundary.

 

The ruby eye was sentient- almost having a mind of its own. Its cool gaze glanced upon the frail woman, blank and in no state of fury, anger, hesitation, or the latter. It would sway for her to come closer to the claymore sword and that she did, crawling and reaching with a shaky arm as doing so.

 

“ _Light as pure as the suns that shine bright throughout the universe and darkness that could engulf the light like the hungry beast it is._ _You truly are the epitome being of the in-between, yet...I am not convinced_.”

 

The claymore faded in splotches of black as so did her vision, dwindling to a blur of that to seeing through water. She was...so frail, so weak, _so pathetic of a supreme being_.

 

\---

 

The demigod wakes up with a spur that was followed with a numbing ache at her side. It was as if she'd dislodged her side from leaning over to the pail for such an extended amount of time- speaking of that, what time was it? Crickets chirping from outside of the pavement yard was all she heard alongside with the early morning birds singing, fetching their daily breakfast or dinner.

 

It was just like the dream: _everything agonizingly ached_.

 

Mikaela sunk herself down back into the mattress and settled between the sheets, staring at the ceiling that was above her. _As if it could come crumbling down her frail body at any given time._

 

“So you wake after half a day passes? Fascinating.”

 

She would deem it as an intruder’s voice- it wasn't. Yourself recovering from some trippy dream can make you disoriented as all hell when  processing reality. The daemon lounged in a plush, lime green seat across from the woman, rubbing his temples as witnessing her comprehend to reality.

 

“Err- Selph, what exactly happened?”, Mikaela asked, voice weary and croaky.

 

“You fell off the ledge of the dome yesterday from training. And _you're_ the one to speak of me for being the forgettable person.”

 

“F-fell?”, she'd stammered, “I _tripped_ !” _What a fucking lie,_  her cheeks would burn as remembering the so-called ‘trip’.

 

“Same thing.”

 

“Not only was that nurse right ‘bout you being petty, but you're an idiot.”

 

He would chuckle as if it was a compliment- and a truthful one at that, “Quick thinker this night, aren't we?”

 

Her eyebrows furrowed at his composure—was Selph in distraught? Distress? It didn't come into mind at first but taking longer glimpses at the night daemon, of whom exchanged the same glances back, it was convincing that something was odd. Even bothering him if you were to consider it. The silent atmosphere was enough to thicken the lining of their throats and make them dry- _say something that the other needs to know—_

 

A twist from the silver doorknob was brought to their attention; the same nurse from before prancing in with pill capsules and a food tray.

 

“Mary,” Selph would start before clearing his throat, “do you think we could have some _private_ time?”

 

“No. I'm on duty. You know that I-”

 

“ _Meriam,_ please,” he then hissed, ombre yellow eyes glowering within the dimmed darkness that he blended in with. As an opposing force of the darkness, he had that tinge of enigmatic corruption lingering within his tone and eyes. Despite having the confirmed state of being neutral or part of the good guys, he would strike fear into other’s hearts with the lingering malice he had.

 

Meriam nodded begrudgingly, lying the tray onto the table beside Mikaela, “Affirmative as so, Selph.”

 

Mikaela was an oblivious one yet her curiosity was piqued by such turn of events. Rarely has she seen the mentor hiss or change demeanor in a way that would send shivers down the clerk’s spine, yet who was she one to judge? Her nimble hands reached over to the food tray, unwrapping the white packaging to see…

 

A ham sandwich.

 

Just a plain ol’ ham sandwich.

 

Nonetheless she chewed into the sandwich, tasting the mixture of swiss cheese and honey ham layered together by the wheat bread. Considerably better than nothing.

 

The demigod’s ears would twitch from time to time as hearing (as if almost eavesdropping) on the conversing opposites, easing to the nurse’s quiet yet nice voice in comparison to Selph’s deliberate, stern yet serene baritone overlapping hers. Exhaustion sets in yet again- it's only been about half an hour or so since she awaken, what gives? It was just a sprained joint with a few bruising—

 

“What you saw in the dome,” the nurse derails off from whatever she speaking about before, “was it...of that to one of _her_ attacks?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Fuck, this isn't going to end well,” she'd say as probably biting on her nail in bitter nervousness that grew. Whose attacks were they mentioning of? _What precisely happened at the dome?_ Meriam trotted in and snagged something from the cabinet above the sink (for fuck’s sakes, pay attention more often, Mikaela) and darted out. Seemed like some sort of white gauze.

 

The clerk’s voice would echo from down the hall of the wing, reaching both of their ears, “Keep an eye or three on that girl!”

 

\---

 

“Selph I have a _little_ question: what were you and the nurse talking about?”

 

“Personal matters.”

 

Dawn made its crack as the sunlight peered through the translucent glass windows, shimmering brightly through the satin red curtains. The sunlight beamed against the caramel skin of the demigod, bringing it to a brighter contrast than normal. Mikaela was still quiet drowsy hence being woken an hour or so later, but it was worth it. Just to think it's been a day and a half all thanks to some sprained joints and bruises that needed a break.

 

 _This is enough of a break,_  she would thought, shifting herself out of the bed.

 

Surely enough, at first she thought she was going to fall from the lack of using her legs in such a day’s time—thankfully it didn't happen. However fatigue and numbness settled in, making her limp and cling onto the dresser that was propped next to the bed beside it. Selph gave out a sigh as seeing the demigod’s attempt to walk of all things- it's as if seeing a baby trying to walk a bit too early. “Get back in the bed,” he demanded, “for all I know, you're still aching.”

 

“Nope! It's not the ache that's bothering me,” she replied cockily so, unhanding herself from the dresser and sitting tall. “It was just the numbness!”

 

“Numbness you deem it as, yet the sprains still have their time to heal.”

 

Mikaela, giving a stubborn pout, plopped herself back onto the bed, narrowing her forest green eyes at the daemon. Convinced as if he wasn't already, he implied the words, “Training will start tomorrow, then. You'll have a full day’s recovery time for that.”

 

“Training? Already? And after I almost broke my legs or so. Ain't that nice.”

 

His nose would twitch in irritation— _to think his deity chose this rotten vessel._  Alas, the night daemon leaves the room to not only get some fresh air from the bitter atmosphere he was suffocating in, but to tell the nurse the good news.

  
And bad news that would come along with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, guess who decided to finally update! Yes yes I know, school started back for me waaayy long ago so updates and chapters will be hindered so whoops ;w;
> 
> and I'm working on a lil something else so stay tuned for that! OwO
> 
> but here you go, ye fucks: the second chapter! (you can tell where i lost the damned motivation lmao)


	3. Catacombs of the Unbeknownst

The denizens of Azulen were no strangers to the occasional occurrence of the demigod entering into the village every so and then—just so leaving the palace was a monthly thing, yet the former mortal wasn't so used to being barricaded by the limestone, marble, granite, and glass that made her feel at ease yet sickening to the commonly routine. To protect the woman of the in-between but not prepare for the malice that is yet to engulf her and her homeworld entirely.

 

...Pure irony, at best.

 

 _Your training initiates at the crack of dusk—don’t be late_ , the steely undertone the mentor implied was enough to be embedded within this woman’s forgetful mind- at least for the time being. It would ring distaste in her ears, for it was obvious when she rolled her eyes. Mikaela then trails off through the bustling market, seeing anthropomorphic commonfolk pass by with fruits in canvas bags or woven wicker baskets.

 

That's when something- or _someone_ \- trailed off her focus.

 

They wore a black mantle that shrouded their appearance from the crowd, shoving and passing through denizens that gave their irate glares at the anonymous. Were they in a hurry and explained so, they would've been let off easily. Or just be polite and say ‘Excuse me’. “Hey, watch it, mortal!”, a gritty voice shouts from the crowd as the cloaked anonymous shoved their way through them.

 

“Well _excuuuuuse_ me,” she exchanges her feigned apology in a mimicking tone.

 

Her piercing cerulean eyes were shot at the demigod’s way and then narrowed, either in infernal disdain or the gaze was subtle in its message, but told Mikaela to stay away from them. For the latter, the brunette was quite the foolishly curious one, so she trails off to follow the straying anonymous in secret.

 

The flow of the crowd was opposite of her—going backward while the rest went forward. It was a hassle for a while but she preserved and pressed on, keeping hyperfocus on the woman with the cerulean eyes shrouded by the black cloak. She _knew_ who it was, voice and all.

 

The head angel.

 

Few people were seen coming down this way of the market; at this point she would be in the outskirts of the vast market to find her. Wasn't this end of the market known to be where the shady customers lurk or was it just her suspension tingling? No matter- she saw the cloaked woman dashing into a dimmed alleyway, where overcasting shadows would taunt any normal denizen of light.

 

But was she intimidated? Unlikely.

 

Mikaela dashes in after, hearing the murky waters splash underneath her metal-esque boots. The cobblestone pathway seemed to be decaying and crumbled beneath her, the earth and dirt now known under her feet. It was a steep hill that she walked down, leading her to a forked pathway that split in two: left or right.

 

A light was casted within the dimmed alleyway thanks to the angel that soon parted left. She soon looks back for any eavesdropper or follower that would be wiped of memory— or face a harsher punishment.

 

The head angel sees no one in the opening, _especially that demigod_.

 

The luminous marigold light was soon to be clouded with the dimming darkness as the angel continues her way down the path. Mikaela trailed behind, levitating an inch or two above the ground so the clanking of her metal shoes wouldn't echo.

 

\---

 

“Where’s that pesky angel?”

 

Spite grew within the atmosphere as his patience thinned. Boots tapping against the wooden porch as the demon swished his tail in an impatient frenzy. Another woman sat on the swingset seat, reading a booklet to pass time. Her steely, royal violet eyes gazed upon the demon, soon to arch an eyebrow. “You know how Sacha is. Keeping an identity such as hers discreet amongst the public of Azulen is of her dire need. _You_ specifically should know of this.”

 

The horned demon hissed, “I thought you knew how I was.”

 

“I do,” the woman replied, “it's you that's in needing of a personality reorganizing.”

 

“ _Savato, I will reorganize your face_.”

 

A shrouded figure rushed into the cavern, holding the summoned light energy that soon dissipates. Her azure eyes glanced at the cottage that was wrapped in the vine’s coils: ranging from the wooden pillars to the steps and even the side of the home was adorned in forest green moss that had magenta flower nubs growing on them. The impatience wavered from the demon, who soon greeted the angel with a sweetened tone, “Sacha! You finally came after an hour and a half!”

 

Cue the sarcasm that followed, “I could've came two hours later but then you'd assassinate me!”

 

He only flashed a devious grin that was enhanced with malice, “ _You_ know me so well.”

 

 The head angel only scoffed- the oh-so belligerent demon was quite of a... _mix_ of things. Savato chimes in unexpectedly, her eyes glinting cooly yet enticed with menace as gazing at the cavern’s entrance. “Someone lurks,” she states with caution and unease in her voice. To the duo, they've never heard someone as steely as the ex-surgeon be so on edge.

 

Mikaela’s heart soon dropped into her stomach and her veins ran cold- how could they notice her presence in moments so suddenly such as that? She backed into the cavern’s crater, holding her breath and waiting for one of trio to come near. A ripple of dreary, melancholic energy washed over her body as if fearing for the worse in a situation.

 

Then an orb of swirling dark energy emerged from her palm, wispy like and glowed with a soft, lilac hue.

 

The dreariness persisted, clogging her airway as if someone were choking her entire being. The shadowy-violet orb inflated and grew, dancing in the fingertips of the demigod and waited patiently for impacting with something—or _someone_ for the matter.

 

Footsteps neared the cornered female and with a rhetorical command, the orb went astray and made compact with the archangel, swiveling  lining of purple, indigo, and black fogging up her sights. _‘An energy blast as strong as that couldn't come from no pesky hybrid’_ , Sacha internally implies as coughing and wafting away the smog.

 

“So you aren't a mortal,” she soon declared, her luminous blonde locks flowing with the stray gust that entered the cavern, “ _and_ you wanna play? I take heed.”

 

“Sacha wait!”, the other two shouted as a blinding golden-white flash was sent hurdling to the crater.

 

“Wait for _what_ , precisely? You two should know well I don't take kindly to interlopers.”

 

Her eyebrows furrowed in rage as taking a longing glimpse at the demon and ex-surgeon; another surge of light energy was casted in her hands, the shape of a bow and arrow amalgamating in her hands. Sacha positions the holy arrow onto the band of the bow and pulled back, aiming at the demigod.

 

“ _You_ ,” she states in a sonorous voice, “ _you have such foolish and bold intent to intrude here_.”

 

Everything at that moment was slowed to a halt for Mikaela- from wanting to justify herself to dash off from the attack that was aimed at her with precision. It wasn't herself wanting eavesdrop, gain bits of detail, and spill their tea, it was as if that the archangel was a catalyst of bringing her here and voilà. There she was, in the aiming vicinity of the archer.

 

More or less, it was if these catacombs were calling out to her, _luring_ her into these inner depths of the city.

 

“I don't mean to cause any harm!”, her upheld and tone of confidence was shaky and dosed in fright. “Harm or none, you are a mere interloper. And one that's being mentored by my own former nemesis—does he still hold that much of a grudge?”

 

The memory would align as hearing such a thing: her and Selph never had a steady relationship.

 

“A- a grudge?”, she would stammer as coming into the clear. The horned demon and ex-surgeon soon became swept in awe as seeing the young demigod, dirtied with pebbles in her dark, brown-burgundy hair. More or less, it was a sort of intrigued awe than being in dazed at the complexion that shone through Mikaela.

 

Or whatever energy life forces that surrounded her, for the matter.

 

“And he hasn't even told you about the history of the Holy Trio? How ashamed is he?”

 

The archangel lets loose of the arrow, watching the beams curtly dart its way at the demigod. Mikaela seen this blatant attack one too many times: beams of three would then split from that arrow to be more precise with its shot. A bubble would submerge from underneath and circle around the woman before the beams made their impact on her, absorbing the mere raw light energy.

 

...And whatever is absorbed, it is soon then bounced back onto the caster.

 

Soon all the beams were absorbed, swirling within the interior of the bubble and contained within that chamber that was soon engulfed by black. The golden-white beams shot out from the shadowy bubble, aiming back at Sacha and knocking her into unconsciousness.

 

 _'Welp,’_ she thought as watching the bubble dissipates, _'time to run!’_

 

And that she does— _swiftly_ . The archangel lays out in a static, cold state; as for the henchmen that took pursuit in chasing after the demigod, they did so with flight above her—specifically for the demon. Savato would leap into the air, landing at specific points and lunge off as if she were a flying fish in air, wielding two needle sharpened rapiers in handle. Her unrelenting gaze didn't falter whenever Mikaela gazed back at while doing this chase. _Exhale, inhale—Exhale, inhale—_ everything was being set to ablaze and ached.

 

She wouldn't make it alive from here.

 

Her breathing was becoming shallow yet it was echoing throughout the inner chambers of the catacombs. As soon as she see the basking orange-pink hue from the outside, Mikaela persisted onward and out of the catacomb-alleyway. The bustling crowd of civilization and _life_ would notice someone young as her being chased by two slightly unkempt strangers from underneath. What do you think those _mindless_ civilians will do?

 

“Stop,” the brunette child hears the deep, sonorous voice from the alleyway. Panting was heard from both of them—more evident from the demon.

 

“We will leave you be, child of the in-between. But heed my warning: you may find yourself coming back in these Catacombs of the unbeknownst. Shall we ever cross paths once more, it will be your doom.”

 

The former surgeon’s eyes pierced into the demigod’s soul, as if she knew who she _was_ from the past. And enough to say from impressions described by Mikaela, her expressions were somber and dissatisfied, washed in dismayed.

 

Not that she could blame anyone, though.

 

\---

 

As making haste towards the spiral, white-cream laminated doors, they were then automatically opened by magic. A frowning and rather _pissed_ off night daemon awaited in front of the gates’ steps, tapping his foot impatiently and crossing his arms.

 

“Did I not say this evening you were ought to come back?”, Selph redirects.

 

“I- sorta- _maybe_ \- got caught up within the crowd,” Mikaela replies with unease in her voice.

 

“Caught up within the crowd you say? And curfew is by eight? You riddle me as some sort of _fool_?”

 

“No, no! It's not that! It's just—”

 

His amber yellow eyes glowered with frustration, “Mikaela, _inside_.”

 

“Selph, _please_. Let me explain myself—”

 

He gave out a firm sigh and a steely, unnerving gaze that was enough to strike fear into one’s heart. “In due time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well holy shit, i finally update after what seems to be a week! =w=;;;  
> Alas, suffer with me for being inconsistent in my updates because I procrastinate so fucking much
> 
> Also note: Riez is Sacha for the forgetful ^^;;


	4. And to think you were ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of something that's so vague yet dire to be on the front burner, the trio of trios is explained: the Holy Trio.

It could've been any other day. Any other day to be caught this late and almost  _ die _ .

 

She stares longingly at the pristine window ceiling that gave a translucent show to the midnight moon and stars. It was a crescent moon on that night, Mikaela observed. “And so begins the phase,” she soon states as averting her gaze over to a constellation. As much as her gall lingered, it was soothed by the stars themselves.

 

It was as if they were all connected to her- connected to what seems to be souls of other people out there. 

 

Dwelling in thought about this and delving into the philosophical nature of it wasn't in her zone. And so she resumes back to stargazing, feeling her eyelids weigh with stress and sleep. After all, it was a pretty long and arduous day. Nothing much of the ordinary was sporadic throughout her mind, yet one thing just had to stick out: the mentioning of the Holy Trio. Mikaela’s eyes soon widen, a spark of curiosity in her dark green eyes.

 

Yet so ever doubt would then wash over her: was Selph placid enough about her coming in for training late?

 

She then got up and walked over to the glass and mahogany door, twisting the golden knob before encountering a knock from the other side. Sure enough, the glass itself would distort that person’s reflection in a water-wavering context and remained opaque in color.

 

“Millie,” the serene baritone would be muffled from the other side, “open up.”

 

Great, now what was she ought to do?

 

Mikaela hesitated from opening the door to let in the night daemon, despite himself seeing a hue of her cream night top and pants that were dotted in sea green. “If you're going to walk away, don't expect me to go easy on this door.”

 

“Geez, demanding aren't we?”, she soon twists the aforementioned knob and pulled open.

 

This room was formerly a constellation observing room and still is, with a few telescopes and opened notebooks sprawled out over the laminated cherry flooring. To Selph’s displeasure of a disorganized room such as this, it filled the demigod with subtle pride over him. But alas, putting that onto the back burner for now, she would then ask him  _ why _ was he here and for what, “Selph, why would you wake me at one in the morning?”

 

“When exactly do you ever sleep?”, he then replied as motioning himself to a study desk and sat there, his ombre yellow gaze piercing through her.

 

“Err- a human must have at least six to ten hours of sufficient sleep, yet I awake at one in the afternoon. But besides that, what do you want out of here?”, she soon then motions herself over to a bookshelf, advertising several of books that were propped from one side of the alcove to the other. She soon then cough as a waft of dust was shot her way. “I don't need anything. In fact, I'm here to  _ explain _ something.”

 

The atmosphere became terse and unrelenting as he said those words—was he going to leave her?

 

That's one of the absolute fears she had: Selph leaving and going to someone else to mentor. That particular someone else growing a bond with him and it filled her with envy and grief. The bitter expression of wanting to spill tears was evident to the daemon, yet he didn't want to point it out. He soon then continues, “May it be something you can correlate as to  _ why _ you're still alive. Of why you're the chosen demigod of the in-between. Ever heard of the Holy Trio?”

 

A lightbulb in her head would be lit up—that she has heard a mention of such a thing with Sacha- err,  _ Riez _ .

 

Mikaela chirps in response, curiosity still twinkling in her eyes, “Yeah! I sorta heard of ‘em yesterday from someone near over by a pawn shop.”  _ It was a simple white lie _ , she thought as saying the lie so casually and seemingly truthfully,  _ what could he possibly think of it _ ? His ombre yellow eyes were narrowed at her, giving the demigod a knowing glare. “For I must explain such a thing you should've known long ago…

 

“Eons time ago, there lived three siblings of which were inhibitors of light. Karme, the eldest of the three, beheld the holiness that was sporadic throughout this universe. Nyx, of whom was the incubator of hope—and finally Aletheia: the beholder of truth. They've all shared a commonality with of that to this universe.”

 

“But what happened to ‘em?”

 

“Despair, sin, and lies. If they are gods of those opposites, there are devils of that archetype. War raged on within this very circle and spot when Azulen was a mere decaying world.  _ I _ am one with surviving few to remember the onslaught that happened within these very grounds…”

 

The tinge of melancholy was brought upon the night daemon’s face, eyebrows furrowed and his eyes staring down onto the floor. Mikaela, feeling empathy and the grief that suddenly washed over her, patted his back. “You had allies that you've seen...slain? By who-”

 

“What do you fucking think?”, he hissed.

 

“Selph I-”

 

“If you seek what I know, I know of nothing of what made the Holy Trio splintered.  _ I _ am the one who shouldn't even have such knowledge of why so. They had their ordeals, so did  _ mine _ .” 

 

The night daemon left with a flurry of the notebooks and parchment swirling around once he teleported out. A pang of distress— _ despair _ —tugged at Mikaela’s own heart, leaving her to clutch onto her chest. At least nothing was happening- 

 

The pang happened again, making her lurch over onto her bed.

 

It was no cardiac arrest but it was palpitations of that to feeling so much grief and sorrow emit from the mentor alone.  _ ‘Why?’ _ , she would ask herself as clutching onto the bedsheets, whimpering softly into the mattress. One more pang arose and left her with a breathless shriek.

 

_ ‘Why do I feel this?’ _

 

\--- 

 

“It's now time.”

 

“ _ Luna _ , you're hurting the child! What do you seek within the make this distress?! She knows of who we are but yet not fully. Yet another reason of why your scholar is a sloppy one.”

 

“Complain for all you want,” her voice became unrelenting and spiced with malice, “this vessel must know despair. Agony. All the things I've felt.”

 

Within such a hollow, obsidian chamber, it wasn't much of a claustrophobic space. The space slowly faltered to white, its walls being adorned with golden swirls and spiraled markings as it stretched throughout the chamber. The not-so-edgy one curtly implied, “And just to think I make you in control. Your corruption amazes me.”

 

Luna replied, “At least I wasn't almost on my deathbed.”

 

“You take that back!”, Aletheia would soon emit a radiant charge from her hand, blasting its way towards the devil.

 

“ _ Dear sister _ , I say what I want to say. This rule is what you must abide by!” A ray of shadowy-violet shot out of the other female’s hand, sharp ended tendrils darting at the light incubator. It soon came to a sudden halt as its summoner realized what she was about to do. 

 

“This child cannot strive on with darkness alone,” Luna implies bleakly, retracting the tendrils into her energy system.

 

“...Nor can she strive on with light, a blinding force for a mortal.”

 

The chamber slowly dissolves back into its shadowy, pitch black depths it once was, leaving the two floating women at bay. The familiar shimmer of light trails by, attracting both of their attentions. That said wisp swirls open into an impromptu orb, showing the events that took place outside of this hollow cage. Within the golden, marigold yellow image was a girl—and a young one at that—sleeping haphazardly on her bed as she kept a hand onto her exposed chest.

 

“...She isn't ready, Ka-”

 

“I know, I know. In due time,” the madame soon dissipates into the obsidian darkness, making her way and exit.

 

The chamber was left in silence as Aletheia observed the girl, half-lidded and pity eyes gazing at her sleeping figure. With the wave of her hand, the golden wisp slowly diminished into dust, falling into the vast recesses of the chamber-like void. 

  
_ “ _ It’s time to grow up, little one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to put this work on hiatus cause I'm going through a lot atm so ^^;
> 
> But finally, chapter four has came! And now, I will pass out on my bed and sleep in until one in the afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> w el l time to die in a hole as this is a work entirely in progress  
> THESE CHARACTERS ARE ABOUT TWO YEARS OLD AND STILL HAVE NO DEVELOPMENT AAAAAAA


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